Emm let out a low, throaty grunt, “Fuck, Gabs,” as I wrenched my hands free from between our bodies and hauled her up into my arms like I was never letting go. She clung to me, arms and legs limp but desperate, digging her face into the curve where my neck meets my shoulder, breathing like she’s run a marathon. I held her tight, tighter than I thought was possible, because she felt so fucking good like this—sweaty and shaking and empty of anything except for me.
We both just lay there, tangled up and sticky, not a goddamn care in the world for the state of the couch or the open windows or the fact that it wasn’t even noon yet and we’d already burned through every ounce of decency we had. Not that either of us had much decency in us to burn through. It’s funny: for all the madness and chaos we’d just made, it was the silence after that really got me, the way it hugged us like a warm blanket fresh outta the dryer. Emma was splayed across my chest, heavy and loose-limbed, tits squished flat against my ribs, thighs thrown around me like they were meant to be there, wet pussy snug up to the base of my hard cock.
Emm was breathing real slow, like she was working out how to be a person again, but every few seconds she’d shiver and twitch, and her hand would tighten up on my bicep like she was afraid I’d vanish if she let go.
Me? I was still hard as a rock, my cock sandwiched between us, caressed by our bodies, being gently rubbed with each breath. It shoulda’ been embarrassing, but it wasn’t. None of it was. I was so hopped up on endorphins and pride and whatever the fuck else that I didn’t care that I was getting covered in her pussy juices and whatever was left of Pete’s cum, didn’t care that my wet hand was at her ass crack, pulling her wet pussy against my balls, or that I could hear Pete snoring in the next room, blissfully oblivious to what we were doin’ out here.
It felt wicked awesome, being here like this, with her. Not just the sex—though, yeah, that was next-level—but the way her body fit against mine, the way she trusted me enough to go completely dead weight across my chest, the way she let her whole self melt onto me like I was the answer to every problem she’d ever had. I’d never had that before, not with anyone. Never thought I’d want that shit either. But lying there with Emm’s sweaty, warm body on me, tears soaking into my skin, I wanted it bad. I wanted to keep her like this, soft and sweet and utterly spent.
Layn’ there, I wondered what kinda’ shit was goin’ through her head—how she felt about all this, felt about me.
“Hey,” I whispered, brushing my fingers through her hair, trying to tame the wild halo of it. “You dead?”
Her eyes flickered open, hazel and glazed with sleep and something else. She gave me a crooked smile, lips puffy and trembling. “Nope,” she mumbled, her voice fucked six ways to Sunday, “just ruined. You happy?”
I chuckled, the sound low and raw in my chest. “Wicked happy. You got no idea.”
Her hand slid up my chest, found my neck, and just clung there for a second, thumb stroking my jaw. Her legs tightened around me, and I felt her hips rock forward, just a little, like she was reminding me of the mess we’d made. The movement squished my half-soft cock against her mound, and I groaned, needy and desperate all over again.
“Hey,” I said after a while, voice soft, “does it... is it weird that I like this? Like, I wanna hold you like this for a million years.”
Emma snorted, a wet, snotty sound, and shoved her face deeper into my chest. “You’re such a sap. But... no, it’s not weird. I like it too.”
We lay there a bit longer, the world outside the living room falling away, and for the first time in my entire goddamn life, I felt seen. Not just used, not just a body, but wanted. Needed. It was a new feeling and it scared the shit outta me a bit, but I didn’t hate it. And being wanted like that, man, it made me horny as fuck.
My cock was still sandwiched between us, hard as ever, getting slowly lubed up by the mess between her legs and mine, but Emma didn’t seem to mind. She pressed her wet cunt to me and gave me this sly grin, and that told me everything I needed.
It was time for more, so I grabbed a handful of hair and yanked her up off me. Emma shrieked and looked down at me with angry eyes. Before she knew what’s what, I shoved my fingers into her wetness, feeling the slick heat and the frantic grip of her pussy. She squirmed and shuddered and shrieked, her wet cunt spasming around my touch, and then I felt it – a warm, gooey glob of jizz—a nasty mix of hers and Pete's—coating my fingers. Fuck, man, I was blown away! After all of this, all I’d done to her, she still had his cum in her! Real slow, I drew my hand up, offering that shiny filth like it was the most perverted gift in the world. A wicked, knowing grin spread across Emm’s sweet face. My world turned into a slow-mo porno.
Our eyes locked, a primal stare-down, like in a filthy staring contest. That stink of sex hit me, thick and musky, so strong I could practically taste the raw, animalistic tang of it. It was tempting, a primal urge to lick it up myself, claim that potent mix. But before I could even twitch, she snatched my hand, her eyes never leaving mine, a blatant, slutty challenge in her gaze. She licked and sucked up all of that filthy mix, every little fuckin’ drop! Then, still locked on me, that wicked grin never faltering, she brought my hand back down, guiding it right back to her still-wet, still-pulsing cunt.
BAM! Fuckin' brain's fried. Head's spinnin’. Twelve hours, and the whole damn game’s changed. Last night? Prim little tease, scared of her own skin. Missionary was the only damn dance she knew. Now? This ain’t the same girl. This bitch is a goddamn porn star unleashed. A dirty little nympho who can't get enough.
Emma's looking at me with those post-orgasm eyes, all heavy-lidded and hazy, and then she leans in close, her breath hot and wet on my face. There's this moment now—this fraction of a second—where time seems to stop. Our eyes lock, and I see it there, this wild hunger that matches my own. Then she does this wild-ass thing: instead of a normal kiss, her mouth opens wide, tongue slithers out, just hovering there, dripping. And goddamn, in that sloppy cave, her tongue looks like a fuckin' serpent rising from a lake of her spit and Pete's jizz. It takes a beat for my brain to catch up, but when it does, holy hell. She wants me to taste Pete's cum, wants to swap that dirty flavor in the most fucked-up way.
I open my mouth to match hers, our faces so close I can feel the warmth comin’ off her skin. Our tongues meet in the space between, not quite a kiss but something more primal, more animal. A slow, deliberate flick of her tongue touches mine, and I taste it again—Pete's sticky, salty cum still lingering in my mouth from when I licked it off my finger. That taste mixed with Emma's breath, making this goddamn filthy cocktail of flavors that goes straight to my hard-on.
Our tongues flick lightly against each other, transferring Pete's cum between our mouths like some ungodly communion. It's not like any kiss I've ever experienced—there's no lip contact, just our tongues dancing in the open air, visible and obscene. Emma's warm breath flutters from her open mouth to mine, carrying with it little sounds of pleasure that vibrate through me.
Fuck! I love this! It's so fucking dirty! We're openly swappin’ Pete's cum while he's in the next room, our tongues like two snakes twining together in broad daylight. The raw depravity of it makes my cock throb painfully, pre-cum leaking steadily onto my dick.
Emma's eyes are open, watching my face, gauging my enjoyment of this twisted little game. I let her see it all—the lust, the shock, the absolute fuckin’ thrill of crossing this line with her. Her pupils are blown wide, only a thin ring of hazel visible around the black. She's getting off on this as much as I am.
And yeah, I’m tasting it too, this second-hand hit of Pete’s jizz, a shared, filthy secret passing between us. Emm’s tongue gets more pushy, pushing against mine, trying to lap up every last trace of her husband's goo. You can practically feel the desperation of her craving, this thick, palpable heat radiating between us. It's like we're bonded by this shared filth.
It's a blatant, ballsy move, and it sends a fresh jolt of pure lust straight to my core. This isn't just about getting off anymore—it's a goddamn game, a twisted little dance of desire and shared filth. We're vile accomplices now, partners in this taboo exploration, pushing boundaries I didn't even know existed until this moment.
This ain't no tender kiss, it's a deep, wet tangle of tongues, a long, sloppy slide. Spit and cum's oozing out, running down our chins, dripping onto our bare skin. It's got this primal, reptilian feel—raw and not giving a damn. We ain't aimin’ for sweet or romantic; we're indulging in something raw and beastly, something the world's turned its nose up at but feels fuckin’ perfect in this carnal little world we created.
Emma’s making sounds; low, hungry moans, purring like a bay kitten, that vibrates through both our mouths. Her hand finds my cock, wrapping around it just above my own hand, adding her rhythm to mine. All the sensation—her tongue against mine, her fingers joining mine on my shaft, my fingers in her wet cunt—is almost too much for me to handle. I have to squeeze the base of my cock hard to keep from coming right then and there.
"Christ, Emm," I murmur against her open mouth, not breakin’ the contact of our tongues. "You're so fuckin’ filthy."
She responds with another of those sultry moans, a sound of pure agreement and pride. Yeah, she's filthy, and she fuckin’ loves it.
Our tongues continue their dance, slick with spit and the last of Pete's cum. It's messy, sloppy, with these nasty strings of spit and cum hanging between us when we pull back and shift around. Anywhere else, it'd be fuckin’ repulsive. But right here, right now, it was the hottest fuckin’ thing ever.
"You like that?" Emma whispers, her tongue flickin’ against mine between words. "Like tasting him? Sharing him?"
The question hits something deep inside me, some truth I've been dancing around. Do I like tasting Pete? The answer surprises me with its immediacy and conviction: Yes! Fuck yes! I like the taste of him, the feel of him, the memory of his cock in my mouth last night, heavy and hot and perfect.
The truth was stuck, man, like somethin' I shouldn't be sayin'. Then I finally spit it out. "Yeah," I admit, the confession feeling like its own kind of release. "I'm really fuckin' into it."
Emma's eyes flash with triumph and renewed desire. Her hand moves faster on my cock, matching the increasingly frantic movements of our tongues. We're both breathing harder now, caught up in the spiral of arousal, pushing each other higher.
"I knew it," she says, her voice thick with satisfaction. "The way you looked last night, when sucking Pete’s cock... the way you kissed... I could see it in your eyes. You wanted him too."
She's right. Damn her, she's absolutely right. Last night, watching Pete with Emma, there'd been more than just the usual arousal I get from seeing a hot babe getting fucked in a porno. There'd been curiosity, envy, desire—for both of them, in different but equally powerful ways.
Our tongues are still moving together, a filthy parody of a kiss, but the gunk connecting us is mostly our own now, Pete's taste fading with each exchange. But the taboo thrill remains, the knowledge of what we've shared, what lines we've crossed.
"Does that bother you?" I ask, suddenly needing to know. "That I want Pete?"
Emma chuckles, a warm puff of air against my wet mouth. "Bother me? Gabs, it turns me on like nothing else. Seeing two guys I care about want each other... God, it's like my ultimate fantasy come true."
The relief that floods through me is a goddamn shock, but it feels fucking amazing. Not that I thought she'd give a shit—not after all the filthy stuff we've already done—but there's something powerful about having it all out in the open, like, here's my dirty secret, so what? And she didn't just take it, she fucking loved it.
"Besides," Emma continues, her eyes dancing with mischief, "now I can have both of you. Together. In all sorts of ways."
The promise in her skanky mouth, the nasty shit it hints at, sends a fresh wave of heat to my fuckin’ core. Emma gives my cock a jerk, kisses me a little more eagerly, showin’ me how much she wants this.
"So, Pete?" I ask between kisses. "I take it you’re on board now? Because yesterday, when we were in the kitchen, it seemed—"
“That was then, this is now,” she interrupts. “Last night changed things. And damn, Gabs, why the hell are you talking so much all of a sudden? Can we just mmm—”
I haul her in close, cutting off whatever the hell she was about to say with a deep, wet thrust of my tongue into her mouth. I can feel her gettin’ antsy, and I'm not about to let some deep and meaningful bullshit ruin the vibe. Besides, she's right—that ain't my style. What I do want is to get my hands all over her ridiculously hot body, bury my face in her cum-soaked pussy, maybe even pound that tight little cunt senseless. So, I slide my slimy hand, soakin’ with her juices and Pete's leftovers, up from her cunt and cupped her breast, my thumb giving her nipple a good, hard flick.
Emma lets out this little protesting sigh, a surprised squeal escaping her lips, like she's missin’ my fingers down south and caught off guard up top. We lock lips, a needy, desperate kiss, her body pressing into mine like she couldn't get close enough. We stay like that for a hot minute, a tangle of limbs and tongues, before slowly easing back into our slobbery mouth-wrestling match.
Our tongues go back to wrestling, all wet and wild, and our hands start pawing, grabbing at every inch of each other's sweaty, gloriously filthy skin. This shared, raw-ass hunger just kicks the door wide open to a whole new level of fucked-up depravity. It's a goddamn turning point, buzzing with all sorts of nasty possibilities. Yeah, things are definitely barreling down the highway to hardcore town.
I haul Emma closer, claiming her mouth properly now, our lips crushed together in a burning, desperate kiss. My hands grip her hips, guiding her onto my lap until she's straddling me, that flimsy robe riding up around her waist. her hot, wet cunt pressin’ against my hard cock.
With a quick tug, I pull the robe open completely, exposing her to the morning light. Emma shrugs it off her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor in a whisper of silk. Now she's completely naked, straddling me on this tiny couch, her soft skin hot against mine.
She's fucking gorgeous like this—her small tits just the right size to fit in my palms, her waist narrow, hips flaring out in a perfect curve. Her brown hair is still messy from sleep and sex, framing her face in a way that makes her look both innocent and utterly debauched.
Wanting to take in the vision, I change it up and slow it down. I run my hands up her sides, feeling the smooth skin, the subtle ridges of her ribs, the soft swell of her breasts. My thumbs find her nipples, teasing them into hard peaks. Emma arches into my touch, a soft moan escaping her lips.
A movement at the edge of my vision catches my attention. Pete's standing in the doorway to their bedroom, watching us with hooded eyes and an approving grin. He's completely naked, cock in hand, already hard again despite having just fucked Emma just a few minutes ago.
How long has he been watching, I wonder.
